


36 Questions

by Tically



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Cheating, Drama, Homophobia, Human AU, M/M, Multi, Murder, conversion therapy, implied rape, one long conversation including mentions of:, subtext that may graze uncomfortably close to incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:34:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22505635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tically/pseuds/Tically
Summary: All they have to do is answer 36 questions without killing each other.  And without falling in love.
Relationships: Connor/Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson/Connor, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 21
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Can I take two people who hate one another, and through "The 36 Questions That Lead to Love," make them believably warm up to each other, to the point that it interferes with their established relationships?
> 
> Connor and Gavin are like oil and water, but they put up with each other for Niles. A colleague jokes that they should take the test. One insult leads to another, and pride compels these two knuckleheads to debunk it.

“This is so stupid.” Gavin settled his ass further into the couch. The idea of this whole thing was preposterous, and he fully intended to treat it as such. Even so, he couldn’t help but feel pressured, like taking a final he hadn’t studied for.

“What’s the matter? Scared you’ll fall hopelessly in love with a man you can never have?” Connor gave his tense company a winning smile and wink. Gavin rolled his eyes.

“You can’t win over everyone, and that’s what we’re here to prove.”

Connor’s lips tugged into a suppressed smirk. “Oh, is that what we’re doing? I thought it was because you don’t know how to back down.”

Gavin gave him a hard look as he accepted the offered glass of wine. “Whatever. Are we gonna get this over with, or did you really invite yourself over for the pleasure of my company?”

It was Connor’s turn to give a longsuffering look to the ceiling, with a put-upon weary sarcasm that set Gavin’s teeth on edge. “Heavens, no, anything but small talk to make ourselves comfortable before embarking into new emotional territory.”

“Just rip the band-aid off, Captain Foreplay.”

Connor glared at him over the rim of his wine glass—a subtle bubbly moscato to Gavin’s own bitter merlot—before composing himself to read the tablet like some newscaster.

“Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want—“ Gavin silently mouthed the word *whom* at him, which Connor ignored. “—as a dinner guest?”

Gavin scoffed. “What a softball question.”

The beginnings of irritation filtered through Connor’s tone. “That is the idea, escalating the line of questioning until theoretically a vulnerability and closeness is realized.”

The other flashed him a shitty smile. “So, interrogation! Why didn’t you just say so?” Connor frowned at him, unamused by his false cheer. “Tear me a new asshole, asshole.”

“Happy to. As soon as you answer the question, _asshole._ ”

“What was it, again?”

Connor groaned, shoving the tablet into Gavin’s hands and taking a deep pull off his glass. This was going to be a long night.

Gavin glanced over the rest of the list with eyebrows climbing into his hairline. “Escalation is right. Let’s get this over with. I’d do dinner with Mayor Rodriguez,” he finished decisively, handing the tablet back to his conversation partner, who blinked, clearly surprised.

“Out of everyone? No Favorite movie star or personal hero?”

“Rodriguez is who I need to impress if I wanna make it to the top of the legal food chain in Detroit. Sooner I get him in my pocket, sooner I make Captain.”

Connor pursed his lips. “I’m sorry, but that’s kind of lame. The world at your fingertips and all you think of is a promotion.”

“Fine, hotshot. What do you have that’s so poignant and meaningful?”

The other man’s face lit up, a small blush spreading across his nose and cheekbones. “Well, aside from Hank, who would be my obvious choice any day of the week—“

“Okay, now who’s lame?”

“—because he really loves food, especially rich, supersweet desserts. I love the expressions he makes, and the noises of appreciation when we share a truly decadent treat—“

“ _Connor,_ I do not need to know this shit.”

“He’s delightful. In any case, aside from Hank, I’d choose Etta Bradbury.”

“Who?”

“She’s that physicist who discovered the Bradbury Constant? Big social media advocate for the sciences and space colonization? Do you not watch TV?”

“Not really. I already know what goes on in town and catching up on the news feels like being at work.”

“Well, she’s a fantastic interviewee; I’d love to pick her brain in person.”

“Nerd.”

“Moving on,” Connor straightened up, back to professional voice, “would you like to be famous, and in what way?”

Gav sat forward, grinning. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. I wanna rule this shithole, and all the perks that come with it. Gonna give people a reason to remember me.”

Connor considered for a moment. “I feel plenty famous where I am, after working on Markus’s campaign. Though, I wouldn’t mind a bigger audience on my stream.” When he found the time, Connor liked video games very much, and was pretty good at them. Gavin hadn’t watched any of his content, but according to Niles, his brother had a decent amount of fangirls and cop enthusiasts in general. He has a kind of niche where he provides good PR, so the department ignores how public he is. “Next, before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you’re going to say?”

“No, who does that?”

“Some people aren’t comfortable speaking to a stranger on the phone.”

“That’s why God invented texting. No one calls if they can help it, anyway.”

“Question four: what would constitute a perfect day for you?”

Gavin closed his eyes to relish the thought. “An empty inbox and a full night of sleep.”

“Save a dog from a kill shelter, then-” Connor trailed off, considering. “Make love to my husband,” he finished with a sheepish lopsided grin.

Gavin scrunched his nose at him.

“What?” All false innocence and cheek.

The detective took a long sip and reached into Connor’s lap to tilt the tablet so he could read it. “When’s the last time you sang?”

“I sing often,” Connor chirped with a self-deprecating smile. “Though I’m not very good. Hank has a better voice. You?” He nodded toward Gavin, who grimaced.

“Nah, I haven’t sung since they stopped forcing me to go to church camp. Just with the radio sometimes.”

Connor’s eyes sparkled with interest. “You attended church camp?”

Gavin shifted in his seat, rolled the wine glass between his fingers before emptying it and standing. “Yeah, don’t really want to talk about it. You want another one?”

“Sure, just bring the bottles; we’re only 10% through this.”

From the kitchen, Gavin groaned.

_6) If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?_

“Body, obviously. Who would pick getting old and shitty?”

“Look at that, we agree on something. Hit me. And number seven: Do you have a hunch about how you will die?”

“Probably the diabetes,” Gavin said, offering the moscato to Connor because the sergeant-in-training can pour his own damn glass.

“I didn’t know that about you,” Connor spoke in awe, his eyes flicking to the side in his signature *processing* expression. Probably parsing all the information he had on Gavin’s behavior and reconstructing his entire mental profile on him. Connor’s mind always was a little robotic in that way, categorizing people, psychoanalyzing their behaviors and motivations. “Niles never mentioned it.”

“Niles only knows ‘cause he’s seen my kit and jewelry.” Gavin pulled a medical tag out of his pocket and dangled it on front of Connor’s face. “Type one. It’s the only life I’ve ever known.”

“I’m impressed by how well you cover for it, considering your lifestyle.”

“Ironclad diet and exercise plan, that’s the fallback.”

Connor’s eyes flicked to the second glass Gavin was nursing, and the detective felt the pressure of an oncoming headache before the words ever left his mouth.

“Should you be drinking so much—“

“Listen,” Gavin snapped, finger in the other’s face, “I don’t need anyone mothering me. Shit like that right there is why no one knows, and you’d better not squawk about it either, or I will _fuck you up._ We understand each other?”

Connor looked off to the side, again, brow knit and jaw tensing. Gavin regretted mentioning it. Stupid, just playing along with this dumb little experiment, and already he’s caused himself a shiny new problem for future Gavin. See, this is why he likes Niles. No fuss, no kid gloves, no meddling. They just fuck and hang out and don’t talk about the molten feelings between them. Sometimes Niles restocks Gavin’s supplies when he’s too busy, or cooks him a healthy meal to keep him from eating out after a long shift, but it’s just Ni’s prerogative and he doesn’t yak about it. Niles is a fucking great boyfriend in that way.

“Most likely, doing something reckless, like jumping between buildings.”

Gavin startled out of his reverie. What? Oh, right, the game. Connor still wanted to do this shit.

“Which brings me to the next one: Name 3 things you have in common.” Connor looked back at Gavin with a soft apologetic smile that threw his whole angry mood off track. “We’re both a little reckless, sometimes. And,” he continued, gaze falling to his hands, “we both love Niles deeply.”

“Yeah.” The quiet, pensive admission slipped out, and Gavin thought maybe he really should ease up on the drinking because that was far too sappy. He countered the sudden camaraderie with a bombshell. “And we both know what Hank’s dick tastes like,” he snorted with an acerbic chuckle.

Connor’s head shot up, eyes wide. “ **What?** ” he yelped. His drink sloshed out of his hand into his lap, making him curse and hop up to grab a towel, but not before glaring murder into his companion’s face. “Explain,” he ordered, and Gavin, smirk faltering, felt as compelled by the tone as if it were Niles, himself.

“Keep your panties on, Stern. It was before your time.” Had to admit, it was funny watching Mr. Uptight get so flustered. “Why don’t you ask him about it?”

“Because I’m here with you,” Connor actually snapped, which sent Gavin reeling. Never took the guy for the jealous type, but guess it runs in the family.

“Tale as old as time,” he threw out, “I had wood for the big man on campus, went after him. We fucked for a while, until Hank broke it off because he knocked up some broad.” Connor didn’t need to know about the years Gavin spent infatuated with the man before getting a chance to make a move as a detective. That was his own business.

Connor had an unreadable expression, sitting stiff, but Gavin had months of immersion training with Niles, and twin number one had nothing on the ice king. “Relax, it was just sex.”

Brown eyes pierced right through him, and made his pulse jump. “No, not for you, at least. You still have feelings for him, even if it’s just the scorned lover.”

The tickling of adrenaline had Gavin bouncing his knee. He could taste the fight brewing like iron on his tongue. “You’re full of shit, but hey, I’m flattered to be such a threat,” he ground out. Ready. He was _so_ ready to do this right now.

Keys in the lock brutally shattered the mood. Both men jerked back into a semi-casual position just in time for Niles to cut through with bags for the kitchen. Neither said a word until twin number two stood before them, eyeing both with suspicion. “This seems off to an amicable start.” His cool neutral face softened into a smile as he moved to embrace his brother.

Connor’s spirits visibly lifted, returning the hug with gusto. “Your boyfriend has been a sparkling conversationalist. Pretty soon, I might be too drunk for even him to bother me.”

Niles snickered quietly before threading his fingers into Gavin’s hair and yanking his head back to kiss him with energetic passion. Connor made himself comfortable, used to their intense displays of affection, but eventually cleared his throat to remind them he was being ignored. When Niles finally pulled back, both panting, he nuzzled his lover’s nose and purred, “Are you behaving?”

“Been perfect. Scout’s honor, daddy,” he replied breathlessly. Niles nipped his lip for it, but hearing Connor choke on his drink was worth the cheesy pet name.

Niles stood and stretched, fatigue written into every motion. “I unfortunately have more paperwork, so don’t get too rowdy. Connor, you know you’re welcome to stay. Goodnight, my darlings.”

Chaperone now gone, the two men considered each other and then the tablet. “Shall we?”

“Why the hell not. Let’s get stupid.”

_9) For what in your life do you feel the most grateful?_

“That I’m not sucking dick for crack on the street like most of the people we run through holding. That I still have a home and job.”

Connor wanted to ask why Gavin failed to mention the man he was just sucking face with a moment ago. It would be too soon to poke the bear, again, so he just said, “Hank, of course,” and Gavin rolled his eyes.

“Okay, but like, a real answer.”

With a huff, he listed off in a mild tone, “Fine. Things were easier for me after puberty. I’m a pretty attractive person, and excelled in both academics and sports. So I’m grateful for the leg from up my genetics.” He gave a puppy head tilt to the other man’s sour face. “Happy? Speaking of,” He placed his chin on his fist and narrowed his eyes at the other. “Gavin, if you could change anything about the way you were raised, how would you?”

Gavin held Connor’s wide vapid stare. “I wish my dad wasn’t such a drunk, washed-up nobody and that Ma had divorced him instead of letting him stick around to beat on us. So, no dad? Yeah, I’d switch to that.”

Connor kept staring at him, gears turning, but he didn’t back off this time. Quietly, he said, “I’d rather my parents weren’t dead.”

He wasn’t one for apologies. But everything Connor said applied to Niles as well, and that thought sobered his attitude right up. Gavin decided there was a fair stalemate to be had in their contest of shittiest childhood. He cleared his throat and scrolled through the list of questions, once more. “So, uh, tell me your life story in 4 minutes or less. Preferably less, thanks.”

Truce accepted, Connor gazed off into the middle distance. “We were born in Ann Arbor, had a happy early childhood in suburbia. Our mom was a DA, Pop did sculptures, wood work, those sorts of things. I only have good memories of them, slow dancing to the radio in the living room and stealing kisses when they thought we weren’t watching. I think they really loved each other.

“When we were 10, three Sceasars broke into the house and dragged us out of bed one by one. Mom had put a crew member away for life, and they came calling for dues. We only had a bat for protection.” Connor glared at the middle distance and cursed. “They shot Pop while he tried to defend us. He bled out on the floor and Mom screamed and screamed—“

Connor swallowed hard and blinked, taking a drink to stall for time. Gavin sat in stunned silence.

“We were in the system for a year. Step-family, removed family, no one wanted a couple of severely traumatized boys. So we bounced around kid mills until Mother took an interest in our…potential. Before everything, we were the gifted kids of a well known prosecutor, and I suppose we seemed promising that way. I give her credit for getting us both into therapy. Neither of us would be as well-adjusted today if she hadn’t poured thousands into PTSD specialists.”

“I didn’t...wow. It wasn’t in Niles’s—I mean, he never mentioned...that.”

Connor chuckled mirthlessly. “He doesn’t talk about much personal, does he?”

No, he really doesn’t, Gavin thought. Every cop has their pet cases, something personal they give their best efforts for. Most often, it’s kids or abused animals. He’d noticed that the twins always hit home invasions particularly hard, which is a kinda stupid thing to harp on, so he had chalked it up to premeditated violence in general. But this information sent him spinning. It was more personal than he could have imagined.

Connor took a deep breath and finished up less heavily. “Life with Amanda wasn’t rainbows, but it beat lice in a foster house. I went to NYU, found out I’m bi, academy, made detective for closing the Bay Killer, transferred here, met the love of my life, and here I am having a conversational pilgrimage with my brother’s lover. Cheers. Your turn.”

Connor poured another while Gavin let out a heavy sigh at the prospect of following that act. “Uh, okay. Ma always treated me like glass because of the disease, and Dad either ignored us, tried to buy our love with gifts we didn’t ask for, or took out his anger on something weaker than him. It got bad in high school because I got big enough to fight back. Ran away from home, dropped out. I made it six months on the street before I seized and freaked my fellow squatters out, and they dumped me on the sidewalk in front of a hospital. I don’t remember that part, but I do vividly recall Ma slapping me cold across the face in a gurney and saying finish school or she’ll let ‘em haul me to jail.

“Shop class is what set me right. It was run by this real hard bitch who made it her mission to make me miserable.” A fond smile graced his face. “Damn, she was a pain in my ass at first, but she taught me the skills to make it on my own. By the time I graduated, I had a trade and an apartment.”

Connor whistled, immersed. “Tenacious.”

“Fixing up cars without formal technical training was a dead end—we were already moving to automatic by that point. Joined the academy because I have what it takes, and there’s no ceiling.”

“And the power the position holds,” Connor added breezily, “was that attractive, too?”

Unfazed by the implication, Gavin remarked, “I did get to put the old sperm donor in the drunk tank, once. DUI, blew way over. Revoked his license. So yeah, the power can be pretty sweet.”

After a pause, Connor asked, “Anything else?”

Gavin gave him a once-over. “You know everything else. Ran beat for years, putting in overtime until they let me take the rank exam.” Connor still looked expectant. “What do you want?”

He sighed and threw his hands out. “Romance, you goon!”

“I dated a few cops, hooked up with guys on Grindr. You need my dick measurements, too, to round out your little fantasies about my love life?”

“What. About. Niles?”

“He’s great! He doesn’t drill me for information!”

Connor held a cushion up to his face and yelled into it.

_12) If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?_

“A functioning pancreas.”

“I’d want to know how much time I have left with everyone I love.”

“Shit, Connor, that’s dark.”

Gavin looked as surprised to have slipped that statement as Connor was surprised hearing it.

_13) If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future, or anything else, what would you want to know?_

“Did Bush really do 9/11.”

“Gavin.”

“Lighten up, sport, you’re stifling me.”

Connor massaged his temples.

“Okay, so. This is going to sound dumb, but…” He’s tipsy, so fuck it. “There was a homeless lady on my beat, first year. I busted her a couple times, but she always wound back up at the usual spot. I decided she wasn’t worth the paperwork, plus she was a riot. Funny, and just…a decent person. I wouldn’t normally give a bum the hour, but we ran across each other practically every day, so we got familiar. She disappeared. I searched the obits and Jane D’s, never found a trace of her. Word was she got a windfall from a local philanthropist and shipped off to L.A. like she always talked about. Just wish I knew she was okay, you know? Not robbed rotten in a shallow grave. I wanna believe she’s living it up.”

He looked up and sneered at Connor’s dreamy smile, then shoved the other man’s arm. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get ideas I have a heart. Can’t have the plebs thinking I’m soft.”

“No, I firmly believe in your ability to be an asshole,” Connor teased with a lopsided grin.

They were almost chummy, and it didn’t feel weird. Until Gavin processed that thought and made himself feel weird. “You’re up to bat, slugger,” he said, not awkwardly, because Gavin Reed is not an awkward person, nor does he enjoy shooting the shit with two-faced, stick-up-his-ass Connor Stern, who currently had a faraway look in his eye.

“Well, I would like to know if parallel universes really exist. How do they interact with each other? For instance,” he sat forward, hands at the ready to wave and gesture, “Have you ever heard of ‘glitches in the matrix?’ Things such as placing a book on the table and turning around to find it in a different spot. Or Deja Vu: is that a hiccup in our brains, or could it be a sort of taping together of different points in time? Are we the only real people, or are there countless iterations of us, mirror worlds where changes big and small can have calamitous differences in expression? A world where we never met, or one where we’re civilians. And is movement between these timelines possible? It’s utterly fascinating to imagine.”

Gavin nodded along at Connor’s rant, taking long sips and humming at appropriate moments. When Connor finally wrapped up, he just said, “You are _such_ a nerd.”

The grown man sitting across from him full-on pouted, and Gavin burst out laughing.

_14) Is there something you’ve dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven’t you done it?_

“I’ve always wanted to climb Mount Everest.”

“Wow, really?” Gavin interjected, still wiping away mirthful tears. “Your lean ass doesn’t strike me as the outdoorsy type.”

“Ha ha,” Connor dryly continued, “I’ll have you know that Hank and I go camping every vacation. He loves to fish, and hiking is good exercise. Everest was sort of this childhood dream—to accomplish some literally monumental task, just for me, not to impress Mother.”

“Ah. I assume she’s why you never did it?”

“Precisely. I wanted to take a gap year and backpack through Europe, but she insisted education should come first.” He rolled his eyes heavenward. “She had her claws so deep into me that I didn’t consider just taking my fledgling adult autonomy and just _go._ Leave with a passport to Thailand, teach English to get by, start a travel blog, something. But, no. Once in college, the ball was rolling and it hasn’t stopped to this day.”

Idly scratching his head, Gavin ventured, “There’s still time. The rock climbing place on Northside is full of retired old bags picking up their first rope. If they can, you can”

“Maybe,” Connor said dismissively, visibly put-out and wanting to change the subject. “What about you?”

Gavin pondered into his cup, opened his mouth, closed it with a sigh, and opened it again. “I wanted kids.” Connor perked right up, full attention back on the other man, and that absorption encouraged Gavin in some weird way to elaborate. “I always thought I’d do a better job than my old man. I know what _not_ to do. But being gay, it never accidentally happened. And then with my crazy dating pool, it never intentionally happened. It’s hard to find guys who want to become parents in an overpopulated world facing food shortages. But even then, adoption is such a dumb fuck ass-backwards system. I don’t meet the salary requirements alone, not to mention my high-risk line of work. Irony, here, but the most I could do is foster, and—no offense—I didn’t want to take a kid in and love it just to push it back out.”

“None taken,” Connor said quietly. After a moment of thought, “it’s not too late for you, either.”

Gavin half-smirked. “Look at us. The answers seem so simple from the other side.”

“I’m sure Niles would be open to—“

“HEY, how about the next question, uhhh, what’s the greatest accomplishment of your life?” Gavin practically shouted over him, words running together to drown the rest of his statement out.

For a moment, Connor just looked done. Then he drained his glass and put his social persona back on. “The work I did with Markus probably helped the most people. You go.”

He’s pissed him off, and Gavin doesn’t feel as good about that as he should. “Getting control of my health, without help,” he sighed.

_16) What do you value most in friendship?_

Connor pursed his lips—bitchily, in Gavin’s opinion, but that applied to most things Connor did. “Someone I feel comfortable and safe with, who knows how to maintain a decorum.”

“Oh yeah? How about someone who’s not fake? Who’ll show me their real face and not run away when I show mine?”

“Fine, that’s good.”

“Fine.”

“Fine. What’s your most treasured memory, Gavin?”

“Dunno, but this conversation might be my worst one.”

Connor slapped the back of the couch. “What is your fucking problem?”

“You, you prissy prick! Why are we even doing this?”

“ **Boys!** ” Both men startled as Niles suddenly appeared in their space, hair mussed and eyes puffy, snatching up their glasses. “I asked you to keep it down,” he hissed. “You’re cut off.”

Connor looked thoroughly cowed, and Gavin’s heart beat against his ribcage like a jackhammer. His boyfriend was a fucking ninja, sometimes. Gavin had even unconsciously reached for his absent sidearm. Niles plunked two cups of water on the coffee table, and in a longsuffering, low tone, cajoled, “You don’t have to stop, just please sober up and check yourselves.”

They mumbled apologies and Niles stalked back to his cave.

Gavin dragged a palm across his eyes. “God, what are we doing, Connor?” he asked wearily, moving to stand. “This is nuts; I’m going to bed.”

“We’re only half-way.”

Incredulously, he rounded on him. “Why do you still want to do this? Are you really that desperate for everyone to like you? Because it’s not gonna happen, Connor.” He gestured aggressively between them. “We don’t get along, just deal with it.”

Connor chewed his lip, eyes a little glassy as he gazed off to the side. Or maybe that was the alcohol, because Gavin sure as shit had never seen him cry, before. “Of course, but...we spend an inordinate amount of time together for two people _this_ antagonistic. Isn’t it worth a shot to become civil?”

“What is with your ‘interpersonal relationship' obsession? Between this game and the cross-examination of my dick appointments... Not everyone is a goddamned romantic like you.”

Connor met his eye, fire returned. “Then let’s rule out every possibility. You have tested my patience, tonight, but I haven’t run away.”

Now there’s a thought. Gavin looked back at him, at a loss for words, something crackling in his stomach like a livewire.

Fuck it, right?

Gavin groaned, running a hand over his face. “If we’re gonna do this, we can’t risk waking Papa Bear again. C’mon,” he said, grabbing his keys, jacket, and a producing a bottle of Jim out of the kitchen. “I have a poolhouse key.”

“What about us being ‘cut off?’”

“Niles doesn’t own my life.”

Connor, despite himself, had to snicker about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The list can be found here: tinyurl(dot)com/36questions2fall
> 
> Critique is VERY welcome!


	2. Chapter 2

“Got a favorite memory, Con? -nor,” he corrected quickly.

“I do,” the other replied, breathing the crisp night air deep. “Mother signed us up for Boy Scouts, which was a whole,” he gestured vaguely, “ _thing_ on its own. We were maybe 12 years old, and Niles and I decided we had learned enough about knot-tying and team building. We grabbed our gear and some snacks and just disappeared into the woods.”

Gavin grinned, cold pricking his cheeks to a rosy hue. “No way. Jailbreak, huh?”

“Very much so. At that point, we were overwhelmed; Amanda had scheduled our entire existence with school, doctors, and ‘enrichment activities.’”

Gavin cocked an eyebrow at that. “Does she human much?”

Connor laughed, “Not often, no. She’s a very...sterile woman. I would probably fall over if she ever said she loved me.”

“S’fucked up.”

Connor shrugged. “It’s her way. She thought by trying to turn us into rivals for her affection that she was motivating us to be the best versions of ourselves. She was dead wrong, obviously, but she certainly tried very hard.”

Snow crunched their feet as they took a shortcut across a manicured patch of grass. “You know you can admit she was an asshole, right?”

Connor shook his head, shoulders hunching. “She was manipulative, and only handed out affection as a reward for positive behavior. But it’s not all her fault. I didn’t want another mother; I wanted Mom back. The first few years, I was a terror, until the need for validation sort of broke me to her ways.”

Gavin seemed taken aback. “Shit,” he hissed.

“In any case, at that time, Niles and I just needed some breathing room.” His face suddenly broke into a dazzling grin, earlier grim musings wiped away. “We trekked miles into the woods, at first nervous and thrilled, and then when we had some distance,” he spread his arms wide, momentarily closing his eyes. “Serenity. It was glorious for the two of us to just be _free,_ talking openly instead of whispers, slowing down to bird watch instead of optimizing every minute. The weather was so perfect that day, with wildlife everywhere you looked. I distinctly remember a whole family of deer—buck, doe, and two fawns—drinking at a stream. It was magical, almost like—“

Connor paused suddenly as Gavin stuck the key into the lock. “Like what?”

“It’s nothing. Unimportant detail.”

“As if that’s held you back before.”

Chlorine assaulted his senses as soon as the door opened. “It felt almost like...Mom and Pop were with us. It’s esoteric and silly,” he finished in a rush.

“It’s not silly,” could barely be heard over the hum of fluorescent lighting and gentle lapping of water. Louder, “You guys get caught?”

“ _Oh_ yes. Search teams found us by following the campfire smoke _in the dark._ ”

“Bet you were toast,” Gavin whistled, setting the bottle and tablet on one of the several end tables interspersed with lounge chairs and wicker couches.

“We were. The restrictions became ten times worse after that stunt, but it was worth it to just be brothers again for a day. Right before we heard the dogs, Ni and I laid on the grass pointing out stars to each other and made a pact to always stick together. That’s one of the happiest moments of my life.”

Followed by one of the worst ones. Amanda kept them apart for a solid month as punishment, but Connor stayed fueled through that isolation by the memory of their juvenile spit-shake. _No one will ever come between us. Not Amanda, not girls, not anybody. We’ll always love each other first, and if we get separated, we’ll find each other. Deal._ Connor smiled a secret smile to himself, absently rubbing his palm. If there was one person he could count on to be unfailingly loyal, it was Niles. Despite anything else, Connor was grateful for that. And he would _bond_ with the man Niles loved, if it fucking killed him, goddamn it.

The inside of the poolhouse was designed for comfort and entertaining. An empty minibar complete with big screen TV sat in the corner next to a covered jacuzzi. A glass wall revealed a patio with a large barbecue pit and stone island. Gavin had only flipped some of the lights on, but the pool itself had an inviting pale green glow from interior lamps. Overall, a very cozy spot to pick each other apart.

“Pool’s heated, if that’s your kind of thing,” was the only warning pulling Connor out of his introspection before he was hit with the backsplash of Gavin diving in.

“Excuse you!” fell on deaf ears as a now barely clothed Gavin did laps under the surface.

Connor sighed and rolled his pants up, settling his outerwear and shoes next to where Gavin had draped his clothes over a chair. He briefly entertained the idea of tossing them into the pool. Turnabout is fair play after all. He instead sat on a dry patch of poolside and dipped his feet in.

After a few minutes, Gavin surfaced next to him and put his dripping wet elbows onto the concrete, soaking Connor’s ass. So much for not bothering Niles. He was certainly going to need a change of his clothes later.

Gavin closed his eyes and dipped under, again. “This is what I needed,” he groaned, blissful.

Connor gave him a commiserating smile. “Couldn’t imagine why you’re tense,” he teased. Gavin did look it. With the backlighting, Connor had a detailed view of each ab and contour. The man had hardly an ounce of body fat.

“You have no idea,” the other sighed, leaning into a backstroke. Connor found himself almost jealously admiring the bulk on him. Con was no fitness slouch, but he was lean no matter how much iron he pumped. The boxers plastered to Gavin left nothing to the imagination for thighs that could probably crush Con’s head.

“When Dad took me to Cedar Point.”

Connor hummed, tearing his eyes away from the rivulets of water running down Gavin’s triceps when he brushed his hair back and reclaimed his spot at Connor’s side.

“Most treasured memory. Dad took me to Cedar Point when I was a kid, only me. Played hooky from school and just hung out. It’s the only time I remember him being both sober and not an asshole. And acting like he wanted me around.”

Connor’s brows furrowed. “I thought you hated your father?”

Gavin gave him a sidelong look. “Emotions are complicated, Connor.” He frowned. “I guess what comes after that is the worst memory.”

“I think we both know mine,” Connor muttered, flicking his feet to feel the water between his toes. “We can skip that one.”

They stayed quietly together for a minute. Gavin laid his head on his arms and Con hoped he didn’t fall asleep in the water. Instead, he said, “That church camp I mentioned earlier. It wasn’t so much a fun summer getaway as it was a conversion camp.”

Lighting struck Connor’s gut. “Oh my god.”

“Wasn’t as barbaric as it could have been, but they did a lot of indoctrinating about gender roles and things like that. But that’s not the worst part. The worst was losing my virginity to a camp counselor.”

“Oh, Gavin…” Nothing could stop the sympathetic sigh punched out of him.

“I haven’t told anyone but my therapist this, so don’t—I’m not ready for Niles to know.”

“Of course, not a word.”

“There was this dreamboat of a guy, 5 years older than me, and we fooled around after ‘yay Jesus’-ing all day. We were sloppy and got caught. The motherfucker threw me under the bus to save his own skin. Said I forced it on him.”

Connor hissed in anger, mouth set in a hard line.

“I got held hostage in a metal chair, POW-style, while every adult in that joint who had bumped gums about love-thy-neighbor spat in my face and called me a whore and a crime against nature.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Connor murmured sardonically. Gavin heard Hank in the tone.

“Not only did they kick me out, which I wanted, but they gave Ma the boot from a church she spent years volunteering for. Dad wailed on my ass for it. That’s when I ran away.”

“That’s lunacy. You were younger, how did they make you out to be the aggressor?”

Gavin shrugged. “I was the unrepentant party.”

“Completely awful.”

“Not as bad as watching your parents get murdered.”

Connor sputtered, “This isn’t—it’s not a trauma contest!”

“Isn’t it?” he shot back with a serious look.

Connor bit his lip. He felt an apology was necessary, but he couldn’t force it past his lips. Not when they both had a hand in being shitty to one another.

“Well, you officially know more about my past than Niles does,” Gavin offered with levity.

“Why,” Connor whispered. “Why are you comfortable slinging secrets like weapons at me, but by your own admission aren’t this vulnerable with the boyfriend you’re clearly in love with—don’t argue about that, it’s plain as day.”

Gavin scoffed, flinging water with the action. “Do you ever give the psychoanalysis a rest? Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to give you a mile and you still call me a piece of shit?”

Connor flinched. His immediate impulse was to deny, soften. _No, of course that’s not true._ Ever the pleasant host, the negotiator, the peacemaker.

The liar.

But it was for the greater good. His deceptive ability made him a good cop, and an adept supervisor. That should count for something. Connor got results, and if that means playing along and getting the drop, what should the method matter? He had objectives to reach, and a lifetime of learned social engineering as the tool to accomplish them. And Gavin _had_ been a piece of shit to him, since they first met. Connor would no longer tolerate it. But he also wouldn’t give Gavin the satisfaction of indulging violence to achieve it. Gavin would enjoy that far too much. Connor could picture it: the other giving him a shit-eating grin with blood pooling in the creases of his teeth. _”See? Knew you had it in you.”_

Of course he had it in him. He held back for decency’s sake. Connor sighed heavily. What’s the best way to approach this to meet his goal? He leaned back on an elbow and splashed at the other. “Truce, then?”

He was caught off guard by Gavin bursting into laughter, again. “Are we truce-ing now like little kids? We gonna pinkie swears on it and talk about cute boys?”

The stress of this endeavor caught up with Connor all at once and he lay back, giggling. “Ahh, fuck it. Seen any lately?” He rolled his head to the side and was taken aback at how the green stood out in Gavin’s eyes when he smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> The list can be found here: tinyurl(dot)com/36questions2fall
> 
> Critique is VERY welcome!


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